


Healing Touch

by OakenDurinsons



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bilbo Baggins-Centric, Domestic Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Everybody Lives, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frodo is Bilbo and Thorin's Child, M/M, Slow Build Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Uncle Bilbo Baggins, Uncle Thorin, Writer Bilbo Baggins, cna thorin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-07-14 13:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7174637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OakenDurinsons/pseuds/OakenDurinsons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo has an accident and has to stay at the hospital for a while. To his dismay, a hot Thorin Oakenshield is his nurses' aid. Mutual embarrassment ensues</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Misleading Start

As the morning sun cracked through his curtains, Bilbo woke from his sleep. The man was used to waking up early to start his day. There was plenty to be done, and not many hours in the day to do it in. He rolled over in bed with a yawn, throwing back the comforter, spooking his cat, Old Toby. The tomcat begrudgingly leapt off the bed and stalked out of the room, probably to go hide under the couch where he wouldn’t be disturbed.  
Bilbo put on his patched robe and old, worn slippers, made his bed, and began his descent down his stairs. His home was rather cozy and cluttered, but the writer had enough money left from his parents to purchase a house that was sizable enough for a family of six. Sadly, Bilbo lived alone, filling all the extra bedrooms with what was near and dear to him. One was his library, one his study, and one was a room he used to store his plants before they were old enough to place in the ground.  
His neighbors found it very odd that this middle aged man lived by himself in such a large house. Some thought him mad, some just eccentric. It didn’t help that he refused to attend community potlucks and parties. He was sick of everyone asking why he wasn’t married yet. Sure, there had been a few men and women in his life, but Bilbo resigned himself to bachelorhood once he turned 30. To be honest, he enjoyed the solitude. It helped him write, to live in a quiet house.  
Bilbo wrote a series of novels about a group of people who discover that they are able to read the minds of the people around them, but they assume they have schizophrenia. A few of the people meet in a support group at a mental hospital, and soon discover that they were the result of an illegal military experiment. They contact the rest of the subjects and plot to bring down the organization that was responsible.  
Surprisingly, the series was actually popular enough that Bilbo had been able to live comfortably for the past 10 years. Prior to writing his novels, he was a journalist for his local newspaper.  
Bilbo walked groggily into the bathroom to begin his morning routine. He trimmed his beard and undressed for his shower. Bilbo stretched in front of the mirror, admiring his figure. While he was not a young man of 20 anymore, the 45 year old was considered fairly attractive for someone of his age. Bilbo was about 5’8”. While the muscle of his youth was replaced with a soft stomach and thighs, his face was remarkably youthful, save for the laugh lines around his green eyes. His auburn hair was cut short, making it easier for him to go about his daily tasks unheeded.  
Bilbo took a quick shower and worked product through his hair. He then went upstairs to get dressed in a button-down shirt and khaki pants, but deciding to go bare-foot as he preferred. He started a cup of tea, because that American swill they call coffee wasn’t good enough for him.  
Bilbo had moved to the United States when he was 12 when his mother decided that it would be best for him to grow up in a less cramped environment. His father had died when he was three, making his relationship with his mother stronger. Belladonna had been a painter. She was even world-renowned, leaving Bilbo a large inheritance when she died of colon cancer. Bilbo had been 30 at the time. Bilbo refused to touch the money for five years, determined to not profit from his mother’s death. Eventually, he realized that the money had no use to anyone sitting in the bank. He donated half the money to cancer research, and placed the other half in a savings account.  
Bilbo still saw his mother in the simple things in life. When he would prepare tea, he’d remember how she always smelt like a fresh cup when she’d hold him close. She left him her cookbooks, gardening books, and the many paintings she had made of their old home and the property surrounding it. Bella had even made a portrait of him his senior year of high school, telling him that a painting was more realistic than a photograph. It showed what the painter thought of the subject. And it was true. She had somehow captured her messy, warm love for him in this painting. His cheeks seemed brighter than they were without being fraudulent, his eyes more welcoming, his hair curling around the edges in the way his mother loved so much. But Belladonna was no liar. She included his crooked teeth that he’d later need orthodontry to fix, his acne. Bilbo had tried to convince her to omit his acne, but she refused. While he was angry after losing the negotiation, she had somehow made it look endearing, like looking at a child with missing teeth and scrapes on his face. In this painting, she conveyed all the love she had for her only child; the only thing that was left of her husband. He placed this portrait above his mantle, along with a picture of his parents on their wedding day.  
Bilbo sat on his porch and enjoyed his tea, eager to face what this day had in store. The man realized that he had missed quite a lot of weeds when gardening the day before. He walked out to his vegetable garden and bent over to pull a few of the weeds.  
Then he heard a sharp POP, doubling over and crying out in pain. Bilbo soon realized that he could not stand back up, an intense pain spreading across his lower back, deciding that the best course of action would be to fall over sideways and fish his mobile phone out of his pocket to call an ambulance. As luck would have it, Bilbo had forgotten to move the wheelbarrow back to the shed yesterday. His head hit the side of the wheelbarrow hard, and he blacked out, feeling warm blood trickle down his forehead as the darkness engulfed him.


	2. An Unexpected Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Bilbo's tumble, he finds himself in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people.

The first thing Bilbo thought when he woke up was _Why the hell am I so cold?_ He slowly opened his eyes, feeling intense pressure on the right side of his skull. Bilbo felt his pulse throb against his temple. He winced due to the bright fluorescent lights. _Where the FUCK am I?!_ Bilbo hated hospitals. It always smelled a little too clean. No comforts of home or familiar scents, no creaking floorboards or warm fires. The last time he was in one, it was his mother’s last doctor’s appointment. Bella did not want to go the torture of chemotherapy, instead opting for a quicker, more peaceful death. They still attended regular doctor’s visits, though, to remain updated on her condition. She died at home, lying in bed in the arms of her son. He tried to sit up, realizing that he must have pulled something in his back. It didn’t take long for Bilbo to put together why he was there. Bilbo lied back down with a groan and tried to cover himself back up with the thin blue blanket laying across his lap. If he was going to be stuck in this damnable place, he might as well try to be warm.

He searched for a button to alert the doctor that he was awake, but someone beat him to the punch. In walked an elderly man, around the age of 70, with a white beard and a large nose. He had small glasses perched on the end of his nose. He was fairly short and portly, dressed in a white shirt, khaki pants, and a black tie. It took Bilbo a moment to realize that this man was a doctor, and not a resident of the geriatric ward down the hall. The man sat down in a chair next to Bilbo with a smile.

“So, had a bit of a tumble, did we?” said the man, thrusting his Scottish accent into every syllable.

“I-I guess,” replied Bilbo, attempting to remember what happened before he blacked out.

“Well, Mr. Baggins, it seems that you have some very attentive neighbors,” said the doctor with a smile. “A Mrs. Lobelia called you in. Said that you were found lying in your garden with your head cracked open. If she hadn’t called us, who knows how long you would have been there,”

Bilbo looked at the man with a disgruntled look. “Lobelia can’t keep to herself. Always asking after my mother’s fortune. And who are you?”

“Oh! Sorry laddie, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Dr. Balin Fundin, but most of my patients call me Dr. B. You seem to have received a concussion. There are no broken bones, you just need stitches for your head wound. We will be running a series of tests to see how extensive the damage to your brain is. If you’d come with me, I’ll help you to the MRI machine,”

Bilbo went to sit up on the side of the bed, groaning in pain as he remembered his other injury. He flopped back against his pillow in defeat as Dr. B. rushed to his side.

“You seem to have another injury as well! Now I see why you fell in the first place! Let me call an aide to come help you into a wheelchair. I’d help you myself, but I must admit I’m not as much use as I once was in the physical department,”

Dr. B. left the room for a few minutes, returning with a tall, good-looking man in his mid-forties. He was about 6’5”, built broadly with black shoulder length hair pulled back in a bun. The aide had piercing blue eyes to match his scrubs. _Fuck,_ Bilbo thought to himself, _He’s gorgeous_.

“Mr. Baggins,” the doctor said with a nervous smile, “this is Mr. Thorin Oak. He’ll be helping you during your stay at the hospital. If you have any questions that do not pertain to the particulars of your injuries, feel free to pester him. He’s literally paid to answer them,” he finished with a chuckle and a wink, leaving the room.

“Well, despite the circumstances, Mr. Baggins, it’s nice to meet you,” Thorin said in a deep, gravelly voice with a small smile.

“Uh, feel free to call me Bilbo. Mr. Baggins makes me feel old,” Bilbo replied, reminding himself that he’s been a lot closer to old than young recently. “Thank you for coming to help me. I seem to have injured my back. I can’t quite sit up by myself,”

Thorin flashed him an awkward smile, moving closer to the bed. “I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but it may be easier for me to just pick you up than for you to help me and hurt yourself,”

“Oh! I-I guess it would be alright,” Thorin pulled back Bilbo’s blanket, making the smaller man increasingly aware of the fact that he was only wearing a hospital gown and some underwear. The aide slipped one arm under Bilbo’s knees, one behind his back. Soon, Bilbo was held aloft, his head resting helplessly against Thorin’s chest. Thorin turned with ease and gently placed Bilbo into the wheelchair with practiced grace.

“Would you like a blanket, Bilbo?” Thorin asked, smoothing Bilbo’s hospital gown.

“That would be fantastic!” Bilbo said with awkward eagerness. “It’s so cold in hospitals,”

“See, the aides find it excessively hot,” The larger man replied, folding the blanket from the bed in half and laying it across Bilbo’s lap. “We’re constantly moving around and lifting people, it’s hard not to break a sweat. And the material of our scrubs is simply terrible for airing out,”

“Well, I’d think that it would be easy to move people, what with you being so large,” Bilbo then covered his mouth, realizing that he had just overstepped. “I-I mean you’re quite tall and muscular, you know, oh god,” Bilbo covered his face as his cheeks turned pink and warm.

Thorin started laughing, a twinkle in his eye, as if he got this reaction a lot. “Yeah, but I’m no longer in my prime. Let’s head to these tests, shall we? We can head back whenever you feel too weak or tired. With luck, we can get you back home by the end of the day tomorrow, under the watchful eye of family, of course,”

“Uh, about that, I don’t really have any family to watch over me,”

“Oh? Not even a friend or neighbor?”

“The only neighbor I have is Mrs. Lobelia, and she’d be more likely to steal my mother’s silver than to nurse me back to health,”

“Well then, the doctor will probably assign an aide to come check on you after your release,” Thorin replied matter-of-factly, wheeling Bilbo out of the room. They passed many people that Thorin seemed to know, including a nurse that was possibly even larger than Thorin, with a shaved head. He clapped a hand on the aide’s shoulder. “Hey, how are those nephews of yours? I haven’t seen them since the cookout last month. They sure are growing,”

“Yeah, the devils are growing all right,” Thorin retorted. “I’ve already caught Kili gawking after that Tauriel girl. You know, Thranduil’s daughter? He’s asked her to prom twice already,” He replied, “Both times he’s came home with a black eye,”

The larger man turned to walk away with a chuckle. “See ya, Thorin,”

“Bye, Dwal,”

Bilbo endured test after test, poking, prodding, and quizzing along down a list. Eventually, the tests were over. They returned to Bilbo’s room, Thorin laying him back down on the bed.

“Dwal will come to redo your dressings on your head. Dr. B. decided that you would only need an ice pack and some pain medication to treat your back, as there’s not much else we can do. It’s simple wear and tear with age, he says. You really should be taking it easy,”

“Life wasn’t made to be easy,” Bilbo replied with a sigh, “It’s the busy, messy, difficult things in it that make it worth living,”

“Still,” Thorin retorted, “you should be more careful.” “Alright, alright,” Thorin chuckled, ”I’ll be ‘round to check on you later when Dwal’s done. My shift is almost over, so you’ll only be stuck with my bossy self for another half hour,” Bilbo’s spirits fell. He had come to enjoy the conversations the two men traded back and forth between them. Bilbo figured he’d still be able to see Thorin before he was dismissed.

“I’ll see you later,” Thorin said as he left the room.

“Bye,” Bilbo squeaked lightly, too quietly for him to hear, drifting slowly into sleep.


	3. Growing Connections

            Bilbo woke to a light tap on the shoulder.

“Aye, laddie, it appears that you need some new bandages. Give me a few moments to swap these out,” Dwalin said, looming over Bilbo with huge hands, his dark eyes surveying the damage that was once the left side of Bilbo’s face.

“How bad is it?” asked Bilbo, fearful that it would leave a terrible scar.

“You wanna look?” replied the nurse, holding up a hand mirror.

Bilbo took the mirror, holding it up to his face. To his relief, it was right next to his hairline, on his temple. Easy to hide, and it wouldn’t obscure his face any.

“Thank you, Mr. Dwalin,” Bilbo said, handing the mirror back to the nurse.

Dwalin started to chuckle. “Its actually Mr. Fundin, but you can call me Dwalin or Dwal. People get confused,”

“Wait, are you married to Dr. B?” Bilbo asked, shocked. It wasn’t that he as opposed to same-sex marriage, hell he had considered it himself a couple times. It was the fact that Dwalin seemed so rough and large, and Dr. B was so sweet and jolly, dwarfed in comparison.

At Bilbo’s suggestion, Dwalin laughed himself to the brink of tears. “Married to that git! No, sorry, that’s my friend Dori. I have spent a lot of time with Dr. B. He’s my older brother,”

Bilbo began to consider the similarities between the two brothers as Dwalin dressed his wounds. Despite their personalities, both seemed to have a robustness about them. They both had similar faces, the same nose and eye shape, but Dr. B seemed a lot more cheerful to Dwalin’s seriousness. Dr. B was a lot smaller, but they had similar builds. Dwalin was even taller than Thorin, and Bilbo had thought him a giant.

“You’re not related to Thorin, are you?”

“Well, technically he’s my cousin, but not enough to count. More of a family friend than blood. I’m the one who got him this job in the first place. I couldn’t let his boys suffer because of his poor decisions,”

“You mean he’s new to this job?”

“Well, he’s plenty qualified!” said Dwalin, reassuringly, finishing his work. “He was a banker before this. Was paid real well. Some fancy bank called Greenwood. You know Thranduil Greenleaf? That was his boss. Thorin quit. Said something about being a corrupt corporate drone, blah blah blah. I didn’t listen much after the part where he quit the highest paying job he could get. I hooked him up with this job a year or so back when he was struggling to make ends meet. Seems to be a good fit. He’s actually considering taking some nursing courses,”

“Does he not have any family that could’ve helped him out?”

“Nope. Just him and the boys. Their parents died in a car wreck when the youngest was six. They were on a date night and Thorin was watching the kids,” Balin shook his head. “He’d do anything for them. Well, gotta get back to work. Nice chatting with you,”

Bilbo couldn’t believe how much Dwalin had revealed to him. While he seemed like the strong silent type, he could tell the man was probably a lot friendlier than he let on. Bilbo tried to picture Thorin as a banker. Hair cut short, tailored suit, didn’t quite look right.

Even though it was probably mid-afternoon, Bilbo drifted back to sleep, full of pain medicine and thoughts.

 

The next morning, Bilbo woke to the sound of bustling doctors, aides, nurses, and the odd escaped geriatric patient. Bilbo sat up as well as he could, noticing that the pain in both his back and head had begun to subside.

He looked around the room, trying to find something to occupy his time with. If only there were some books lying around. Bilbo braced himself on the bedrail as he attempted to take a step out of bed. He was able to straighten himself up enough to walk to the chair across the room and set down. Yes, his back was aching, but never a better time than the present, lest he want to start toting a walker.

Bilbo was old, but not quite walker material.

He spotted a few newspapers on his side table. He picked up the one he used to write for, the Flying Eagle. Bilbo worked under an editor named Gandalf Grey, and older man who had a penchant for odd news stories. He and his former employer ended on good terms.

Suddenly, Thorin walked in, hair windblown and untied, as if he was just outside. The autumn air had beaten his cheeks, making them pink and flushed.

 _Damn it,_ Bilbo thought, _why can’t he be ugly._

“Hey,” Thorin said with a smile, “I see that you’re a little more energetic today,”

“Well, you can’t expect one to be energetic after being bludgeoned in the head,” Bilbo replied, with a sly grin.

“From what the paramedic told me, you tripped over a wheelbarrow,” Thorin countered, with a mischevious smile.

“If I told you that the reason I hit my head on the wheelbarrow was my back gave out, will it make my scar less impressive?” Bilbo said sheepishly.

“Nope. Every battle scar is well earned. But you should probably tell the ladies it was earned more heroically,” Thorin sat down in the chair next to Bilbo.

“Well, I’m more interested in the men’s reaction than the women’s,” Bilbo said, expecting some sort of remark from Thorin. Fortunately, Thorin’s face didn’t change.

“Sorry, old assumptions. You’d think after I came out, I’d assume the other way. But yet straight seems to be everyone’s default according to the rest of the world,”

“Well, its nice to know we have something in common. Your conversation is about all to keep me entertained in this hospital,”

“What do you do to keep yourself entertained at home?” asked Thorin.

“Mostly read and garden. Oh god!”

“What’s wrong?” asked Thorin, frantically.

“My garden! If I don’t get home before the end of the day, they won’t get watered. My prize-winning tomatoes,” Bilbo groaned, putting his face in his hands.

Thorin started hatching a plan.

“I’ll handle it.”

“What?” said Bilbo, looking up at Thorin’s bright blue eyes.

“Don’t worry.”

Thorin got up and walked towards the doorway.

“I’ll check up on you later.”

Bilbo, confused, watched Thorin leave with an odd sense of purpose.


	4. The Voices in All of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendly conversations and dopiness

The time seemed to go by so slowly while Bilbo was in the hospital. He tried to keep as entertained as he possibly could. Bilbo watched television. He read. He even tried to draw a little bit, but to his disappointment, the portrait of his cat Toby ended up looking more like a sad donkey. Bilbo did not inherit his mother’s artistic ability.

When Thorin reappeared, Bilbo felt the lazy shroud of boredom lift. He had been gone for at least an hour.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Thorin said, smoothing his scrubs with a huge grin on his face. “Your garden is taken care of,”

“Oh! Did you call someone?” Bilbo asked, wondering who Thorin could have gotten one of his neighbors so quickly.

“Something like that,” Thorin straightened some of the pillows on Bilbo’s bed, seeming more at ease to be standing than to sit and rest. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Since you left. I decided not to take a chance with the floor,” Bilbo said sarcastically.

“Wanna go for a walk?” Thorin asked.

“Sure, I guess,” replied Bilbo doubtfully. “But you may need to support me,”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Thorin said with a nod, “Thorin Oak, at your service,”

At that remark, Bilbo chuckled.

“Well, I better get up off my butt then,” Bilbo pushed up from his chair with as much strength as he could muster. He got about halfway up when he realized his body and gravity were at a stalemate. “Um. Thorin, could you give me a bit of a boost?”

“Absolutely!” Thorin leaned over Bilbo, one arm underneath Bilbo’s, the other hand resting on the small of his back. They were so close Bilbo could smell the fresh soap and something that reminded him of woodstoves.

Thorin had both of them straightened and helped Bilbo make his way towards the door.

“I’ll bring the wheelchair in case you’re too tired to walk back. I know the perfect place,” Thorin said, keeping one hand on Bilbo’s back and rolling the wheelchair behind him.

They both walked until they reached the end of the hall. The whole east wall was made of windows. Bilbo’s room was on the sixth floor, just tall enough to get a spectacular view of the city’s skyline. Shireton could look so beautiful from above.

Here Thorin had Bilbo sit in the wheelchair while he grabbed a folding chair from a nearby closet.

“I like to sit here when I have some free time. It gives me a fresh perspective,” Thorin said, his eyes and shoulders relaxing. “The big picture. We’re all just little ants. Helps me remember that what really matters is that I make good use of my time,”

“Is that why you are considering taking some nursing classes?”

Thorin gave Bilbo an amused look. “Who told you that?”

“Your friend, Dwalin,” Bilbo said matter-of-factly.

“The big mouth,” Thorin said with a laugh, leaning back in the chair. “Can’t keep his mouth shut,”

“He seemed to think very highly of you,”

“Yeah, he acts like I’m his pet project. But he’s the closest thing to family I have left, besides my nephews,” The larger man said with a fond smile. “What about you? What do you do to pass the time?”

“Well, I’m a writer,” Bilbo said, sheepishly.

“What do you write?” asked Thorin, with genuine interest.

“Just some fiction. Have you ever heard of The Voices In All Of Us series?”

“Heard of it? It’s all my boys talk about. They love that series.”

“Well, that’s what I do. I decide what my little make believe people would say or do, and I write it down,”

Thorin’s eyes got as wide as his face. He leaned over, as if to whisper in Bilbo’s ear. “You mean, you’re B. Took?” He said incredulously.

“Uh, yeah,” Bilbo started toying with his hem. “Took was my mother’s maiden name.”

“Wow. I’ve been taking care of a celebrity,”

“Well, you’re not a celebrity if no one knows who you are. I like to keep to myself,”

“The boys love your books. Kili cried for five days straight when he finished the last book you wrote and realized Jen wasn’t coming back,”

“You never know,” Bilbo said with a sly smile, “Anything can happen in books,”

“Hey, would you like some coffee from the machine downstairs? I have a few minutes before I have to go to work,”

“You mean you came to work two hours early?” Bilbo said, shocked.

“Well, the boys leave for school at 8, and I don’t have much to do until they get back. I usually come early to talk to Dwalin or check up on patients,”

“Oh. I’m more of a tea drinker,” said Bilbo.

“I’ll see what they have,”

As Thorin walked off, Bilbo heard footsteps behind him. He turned around his wheelchair and came face-to-face with Dr. B.

“Hiya, Bilbo!” said the older man, adjusting a clipboard he was carrying. “Good news, you’ll be out of here by sundown. Of course, Thorin told me of your living arrangement. The hospital has started this new program where the aides make house calls in the evenings to check up on those who do not have familial assistance in their recovery. Dwalin felt that since you two got along so well, he’d assign Thorin to you,”

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be a burden to him?”

“Don’t worry, he’ll get paid time and a half for every hour he’s helping you. Besides, today has been the first day he’s came to work more than three minutes early in a year and a half,” Dr. B. said with a wink, turning to leave.

 _So its not all in my head?_ Bilbo said to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's anything you guys want to see, just tell me!


	5. The View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! sorry for the long hiatus. I will be posting again sometime this week, thank you for being patient. Here is a short one. Since starting college, I haven't had a lot of free time. As a result, I will try to post shorter chapters more frequently. 
> 
> Thank you all for being patient!
> 
> (Also, if there are any continuity issues, point them out and I'll fix them)

Thorin returned holding two Styrofoam cups a few minutes later. He handed one to Bilbo, a light steaming cup of tea. “They didn’t have any tea downstairs, but Dori had some in his locker. Real connoisseur of beverages, that one is,” Thorin chuckled to himself as he sat down and buried his smile in his coffee.  
Bilbo looked down at his tea, realizing how much he missed the caffeine. He took a short sip, taking care not to burn his tongue. Not the best tea he’s ever tasted, but still better than coffee.  
“Which one is Dori?” Bilbo asked.  
“Oh, he’s a nurse over in geriatrics. Dori works with his brother Ori. Ori’s only an aide of course, being 16. Now that I think about it, our hospital’s oddly family based,” Thorin said, as if coming to a sudden realization. “Their brother, Nori, is an artist though. We seem to think Dwalin has a little bit of a crush on him,” his smile glowed a bit brighter at that. “Whenever we invite Dori and Ori over for anything, Dwalin’s always there in hopes that Nori came along. Kinda cute actually. I’ve never known Dwalin to faun over someone like that,”  
“What about you?” Bilbo asked. It took a few moments for him to realize what he asked. “I-I mean if you would like to share,”  
“I haven’t dated much since my divorce,” Thorin said, rubbing the back of his neck.  
“Oh, god, I’m sorry for asking, its none of my business,” Bilbo backtracked.  
“I don’t mind talking about it, she’s been out of my life for a decade or so,” The larger man said, sipping his coffee.  
“Was it the whole...gay thing?”  
“Oh! No, I’m bisexual. I just haven’t been open about it until recently,” Thorin said with a smile. “I was a workaholic. Never came home on time, missed family gatherings, etcetera. It was more of a mutual agreement. We were married for ten years,”  
Bilbo could see the faded grief in Thorin’s eyes as he tried to fake a smile for his benefit.  
“You?”  
Bilbo was caught off guard by this question. Thorin appeared to be eagerly waiting for an answer, eyes twinkling and eyebrow raised.  
“Um, no one as of late. I’ve been out of the dating scene for quite a while. Experimented a bit in college. In short, the last fifteen years have been pretty dry,” He said, looking down at his cup.  
Both sat in front of the window for a while, enjoying each others’ company. To Bilbo, it felt like an eternity passed. Thorin then checked his watch.  
“Well, looks like I should help you back to your room. Report starts in five minutes,” He stood up with a shrug and put his folding chair away. “It’s a pity we can't sit here all day. I love this view,”  
Bilbo took a glance at Thorin.  
“It sure is magnificent,”


	6. Discharged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two in one day, I'm inspired  
> (Again, feel free to give advice or opinions)

Finally.  
Bilbo was thrilled to be going home. He was given the clothes that he was admitted in and tried them on. Some of the aides helped him gather some things that he would need at home. Dwalin showed him how to properly dress his wound, and Dr. B gave him the run down on what he was and was not allowed to do.   
Allowed to do:  
• Eat  
• Bathe  
• Rest  
Not allowed to do:  
• Go upstairs  
• Stand for long periods of time  
• Wash his wound  
• Anything remotely respectable  
This meant that once Bilbo got home, he’d need his Thorin to gather everything from upstairs and bring it downstairs. He’d also need to sleep in one of the guest rooms downstairs until his back felt better. His goal was to put the least amount of burden on his helper, injured or not.   
Bilbo was wheeled to the door after filling out the appropriate paperwork.  
Then, he realized that he did not drive himself there.  
“Um, quick question,” he asked Dwalin, sheepishly, ”How am I supposed to get home?”  
“I’ll drive you,” said a humored voice behind him. Bilbo turned his head to see Thorin in dark jeans and a blue hoodie, hair let loose about his shoulders, with ratty trainers on. “Let me take your bag to the car,”  
Bilbo felt uncomfortable seeing Thorin out of his scrubs. It was almost like seeing someone naked. Not like he would mind that.  
Once Thorin returned, He gave Bilbo a bit of a boost up. “Think you can handle it?” He asked with his eyebrow raised. That stupid eyebrow.  
“If it’s one thing I learned in my 45 years as a bachelor, it’s how to take care of myself,” Bilbo said with a chuckle. He placed his hand on Thorin’s shoulder and took a few steps. His back still ached, but more out of inactivity than anything else. He felt awkward touching Thorin without his permission, but he figured that he was used to being used as a crutch by now. To his surprise, Thorin took his hand and placed it on his other shoulder, making Bilbo wrap his arm around the much taller man’s back. Thorin then wrapped his arm around Bilbo’s back.  
“You know I’m trained for this right?” Thorin said humorously. The two made their way to the car, and Thorin helped Bilbo inside. Bilbo made a point to close the door. He could still do some things.  
The car was an old Chevy Impala. It seemed a little worse for wear, but still drove well.   
“I gave my old car to the boys. Didn’t feel like I needed it anymore,” Thorin said, putting the car in drive. “Once you quit your job, you’re less worried about impressing people and more about reliability. Where do you live again?”  
“Over on Hill Street,”   
“Oh, that’s not far from where I live. I’m on Misty Road, just a few blocks over,”  
Bilbo seemed to take comfort in the fact that Thorin wasn’t going too far out of his way to help him.  
When they pulled up to his house, Bilbo took care to check on his tomatoes. They were as full and bright as ever. However...  
His carrot patch seemed to be thinned out.  
“Seems that rabbit came back,” Bilbo said, disgruntled.  
“Um, actually, that may have been me,” Thorin said rubbing his neck sheepishly, “I thought that they were weeds. Wasn’t until I pulled about five of them that I noticed,”   
Bilbo started laughing at the apologetic look that Thorin gave him. Thorin bent over to become the human crutch again. When they were halfway across the lawn, Bilbo realized something.  
“Wait, you were the one who took care of my garden?” Bilbo asked, “You didn’t have to do that,”  
“Well, I fed your cat too, but that was because she wouldn’t leave me alone,” Thorin said, opening the door.   
“Old Toby gets like that when he’s hungry. Tries to rub up on you. It’s like a little con,”  
Thorin laughed at that. Bilbo was then preoccupied with the thought of Thorin working in his garden, distraught over his carrots.  
Once they reached the couch, Bilbo relaxed into the backrest. Thorin took one wide look around the living room. Bilbo soon realized that the clutter he found endearing others might find messy. The sun was beginning to set and he was getting awfully tired. He let out a big yawn.  
“Oh, gosh, you’re tired, I should probably bring your things down here,” Thorin said frantically, “Where do you want to sleep?”  
“I guess this is as good a place as any,” Bilbo shrugged, ”It’s fairly close to everything I need,”  
Thorin gathered some of Bilbo’s clothes and brought them to the living room. Bilbo cringed at the thought of Thorin seeing the mess he called a bedroom. He had also grabbed some pillows and blankets. Thorin then went to the work on making Bilbo a sandwich.   
“You know you don’t have to do all this,” Bilbo said awkwardly.  
“Oh,” Thorin looked down at the sandwich he was making, almost as if he was doing it by instinct and hadn’t realized it, “after being the single parent of two teenage boys, you start going a little too far,”  
Bilbo hadn’t realized how hard it must have been for Thorin to raise the boys by himself. He seemed to have adapted exceptionally well.  
After Thorin handed him the sandwich, he searched for the remote. “Would you like to watch some TV?” He asked.   
“Might as well, according to Dr. B, I’m not allowed to do everything else,” As he flipped through channels, Thorin tidied up. Finally, he settled on one of his cooking shows.   
“I love this one!” Thorin exclaimed, pausing in front of the television.  
Bilbo looked at him in shock. This man, watching a cooking show.  
“Well, don’t look so surprised, I had to learn how to cook somewhere,” Thorin replied with his hands on his hips, “Do you mind if I watch for a while?”  
“Not at all,” Bilbo said, astonished, “you deserve a break,”  
He realized that there weren’t any chairs for Thorin to sit in, so he offered the end of the couch.   
“You really should lay down, you know,” Thorin said while sitting down with a plop.  
“Do you mind if I put my feet in your lap?” Bilbo asked, not wanting to cross any boundaries.   
“Not at all,” Thorin raised his eyebrow again.   
Bilbo situated his pillow so that he could lay down comfortably, pulled the blanket around him, and placed his feet in Thorin’s lap.   
Bilbo fell asleep looking at his new favorite view.


	7. Walk of Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is Thorin POV. I think I may go back and forth in the following chapters.

_Shit Shit Shit Shit Fuck Shit_

Thorin had woke up in the morning on Bilbo’s couch, his hand resting on Bilbo’s feet and another hanging over the arm of the couch. He looked at his phone. 7:42 AM.

_Shit_

He had two missed calls from Fili, followed by a text message:

_Figured you crashed at Dwalin’s after too many beers. I bought Kee and I some pizza. Text me in the morning._

Thorin certainly hadn’t planned to spend the night, and a patient, no less! He quickly got up, taking care not to disturb Bilbo in the process. He looked quite sweet and relaxed with his eyes squinted like that and with the sun shining through his hair. Thorin straightened out his blanket.

That damn cat kept rubbing up on him, so he got some of the cat food that he had found on his last visit here. Bilbo really needs to lock his doors.

His home was quite charming, though. It looked big enough to house a family of six, but Bilbo covered every inch with books and paper. He grabbed a piece of stationary and decided to leave a note to Bilbo.

_Bilbo,_

_I had to go to work, sorry for sleeping over. I’ll check up on you after work, I get off at 4. Here’s my number in case you need something: 4537347789. Make sure you eat regularly and don’t get your bandages wet._

_Thorin_

He taped the note to the couch, taking one last glance at Bilbo before leaving the house.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, Thorin arrived at work. At 8:05. _Shit._

He raced past a few of the housekeepers, typed in his clock-in code, and ran to the men’s locker room. He always kept a pair of scrubs in his locker in case of emergencies, more specifically, bodily fluids.

Dwalin walked into the room as Thorin was tying his shoes.

“Well, well, look what we have here, a little walk of shame?” Dwalin asked with a chuckle. It had been years since he had seen Thorin this frantic.

“I fell asleep,” Thorin said through gritted teeth.

“On top of someone? They usually don’t like that, especially when you’re as big as you are. Hopefully you didn’t crush them to death,” Dwalin handed Thorin a pen. “Since you missed report, geriatrics is short today. Looks like you’ll be Dori’s little helper. Try not to get too much urine on you. And say hi to Ori for me,” Dwalin said as he walked out of the room.

_Geriatrics. Wonderful._

Thorin had done his training in geriatrics. Not a lot of variety there. Usually someone refuses to use the bathroom and you take an hour of explaining to them how wetting the bed is not acceptable, someone thinks you’re their son, or in Thorin’s case, they tend to think that he’s a very tall woman. Ori found that one hilarious.

Fili, Kili, and Ori went to the same high school, so Thorin had known Ori since he was a little kid. Ori got to the point where he’d also call Thorin Uncle. Not that Thorin had minded it. He didn’t have any kids of his own, so he had all his little nephews. He did feel as if Kili and Fili were his sons, but he would never be able to replace their parents. There had been a period of time where the boys all but blamed Thorin for their parents’ deaths. That had been a hard year. First the divorce, the loss of his sister and brother-in-law, and then he had almost lost the boys. Their paternal grandparents saw that he was struggling, and offered to take them off of his hands. There was quite a fight about it, but Thorin convinced them that the boys needed to be raised in a familiar environment with people they saw every day.

Thorin was sometimes shocked with how much the boys looked like their parents. Kili was 16, every bit his mother, while Fili was 17 and looking at colleges. He was so serious, like his father, but both had Dis’s eyes. Well, they were Thorin’s eyes also, but they had a stubbornness about them.

 

_Geriatrics sucks._

Thorin was too easily frustrated. While Ori was calm and patient with patients, able to hum around the room while tidying up, Thorin seemed to frighten every single resident he came across. It was a combination of being too big and not very talkative. Some of the men wouldn’t let Thorin stay in the room with their lives unattended. Ori had Thorin leave the room and diffused the situation. He came out laughing, and Ori told him that the resident was jealous of how handsome he was.

_My one compliment of the day._

Thorin had many other complications with his residents that day. Some refused to do anything but yell, some wouldn’t eat, etc. It reminded him of when the boys were toddlers and he would babysit, and neither of them would eat the damned baby food that their mother had made from scratch. Thorin didn’t think he’d like pureed steak either.

Finally, it was time for his lunch break. Thorin had sat down in his usual place by the window, when Dwalin sat down next to him.

“So, who was the lovely lady you bedded last night?” Dwalin asked with a wink.

“There was no lady,” Thorin took a bite of his sandwich. Hospital food.

“Oh? I forgot about that. How was it?”

“I didn’t sleep with anyone. I fell asleep on Bilbo’s couch,”

“Who the fuck is Bilbo?” Dwalin asked with his eyebrow raised, “a potential lover?”

“You know that little blonde guy who was admitted for a head injury?” Dwalin eagerly nodded, looking like a teenager trying to coax gossip out of him, “I was helping him get settled and we fell asleep watching TV,”

“So you fucked him first?”

“What? No! I would never sleep with a patient!” Thorin started to get angry.

“Well, laddie, there is the six-month rule,” Dr. B said as he sat down next to them.

“Balin, what the fuck are you talking about?” Dwalin said, nudging his older brother.

“The six-month rule! The hospital has a clause that says you can date patients six months after they’ve been discharged,” Dr. B winked, “That’s how I met my Dori, he had been admitted with an infected toe. Followed him around for six months before I made my move. Shortly after, he applied to the hospital and we’ve been together ever since,”

“I have more important things to worry about than dating,” Thorin said, standing up and throwing away the saran wrap his sandwich came in.

 

The rest of his day was no better than the beginning. The only thing that got him through it was the fact that he needed to check on Bilbo afterward. Eventually, 4 o’clock came around and Thorin clocked out and got into his car. He took the short drive over to Bilbo’s. He knocked on the door before entering, not wanting to catch Bilbo off guard. As he entered the house, he saw Bilbo had done some cleaning. His books were straightened, the window sills were dusted, there was something in the oven. He saw Bilbo was sitting on the couch, his beard trimmed, with glasses on and a laptop in his lap.

_God he was cute._

Thorin cleared his throat when he noticed Bilbo hadn’t heard him come in. Bilbo turned around, and with a smile said, “Come in! I decided to straighten up the house a little bit. A pitiful state a house can get in over a couple days,”

_Damn that accent._

Thorin walked around the living room.

“Seems you’ve done well for yourself. How’s your back doing?”

“Fine, thank you for asking. Just a minor ache. I think a good rest and some pain pills are all it needed,”

“Great,” Thorin said, looking up at Bilbo’s mantle. “Wait, is that you?” He saw a younger version of Bilbo, smiling down sheepishly from above the fireplace.

“My mother was an artist,” Bilbo said, “She loved being realistic. Couldn’t convince her to edit out the acne,”

The portrait looked almost identical to how Bilbo was now. It was like seeing father and son. His hair was a little longer there, teeth crooked, and a rosy glow to his face, as if he was laughing about something his mother had said. The cheeks were fuller and there were more freckles.

“Well I have to get going. Gotta feed the boys,” Thorin said. “Text me or call me if you need anything ok?”

“Sure,” Bilbo said, “And Thorin? Thank you for looking after me,”

“Don’t mention it,” Thorin gave Bilbo one last smile before leaving the house.

 


	8. New Chapter

Hey guys! I plan to write a new chapter tomorrow, I'm re-reading my past chapters


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